


to the one who loves him next;

by l0nelynight



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety Attacks, BAMF Morgana, Break Up, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Insecure Arthur, Insecurity, Letters, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-09-01 13:11:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8625709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/l0nelynight/pseuds/l0nelynight
Summary: I’m begging you not to hurt him, nameless figure who will one day replace me. He’s been through too much. He is golden, the only star I needed, and his light is too easily put out. Give him your all and keep him burning, and he will do the same, stroking your hair and whispering his thoughts and dreams to you. You will never have to ask the universe for anything ever again.
Love him. Don’t let him go. 
Sincerely, Merlin.





	

**To the one who loves him next,**

**He’s terrified of spiders. He may be the one jumping up in the middle of the night at a sound in the kitchen to protect you, but when you’re out late and he texts you freaking out because there’s one sat on the window; go kill it. He’ll never sleep otherwise.**

Merlin reckoned he’d most definitely had too much to drink, and laughing at Gwaine’s jokes just solidified that. He hadn’t meant to come out, Gwaine just suggested it as they left the office for the day, a few pints before they split off home. Merlin had text Arthur, just to make sure a search party wasn’t launched, and then joined his friend in the sleazy pub next door. Gwen and Lance arrived by chance an hour later, looking for somewhere to eat, and ended up joining the two, laughing but not drinking. Weird health kicks and pregnancies cause aversions to alcohol.

Hours suddenly passed by at the same alarming rate that his pints did, and suddenly it was half twelve and last call was being rung. The four looked up surprised, amazed at how time went by, and Gwaine pulled his phone out to four texts, two WhatsApp’s and a missed call from Arthur, all of which were along the lines of “why isn’t Merlin answering, is he okay, Gwaine if you’ve gotten him shitfaced and hurt I swear to god”. Gwaine, truly flattered by Arthur’s trust in him, nudged Merlin, who was pulling out his phone also and saw a similar amount of missed calls and messages. He had to do a bit of scrolling to find the source of the panic. A photo sent four hours ago of a spider, probably around the size of Merlin’s palm, sat on the window. Laughing fondly, Merlin turned down the last orders Gwen was putting in, and jogged back to the flat in record time for someone as wobbly as himself.

Opening the door quietly, he sneaked into the living room it opened onto, fumbling around in the dark for a light. The flat was dark, so Merlin assumed Arthur was in bed. Just as he found it, a creak came from the kitchen door, light spilling into the room with a dark silhouette blocking some out.

“Arthur? What are you doing, it’s late?” Merlin whispered, slightly slurred. Arthur looked sheepish in the doorway for a moment, staring at his feet.  
“Don’t you start work at half five?” Merlin asked again, confused. After a second, it clicked and he walked over to his boyfriend stood in the doorway, blushing furiously.  
“Do you want me to go and get it for you?” Merlin asked fondly, cupping Arthur’s cheek. Arthur looked up, relief evident in his eyes.  
“I just, I couldn’t stop thinking about it running over me while I slept I just couldn’t stay in the same room and-.” Merlin cut him off with a quick kiss.  
“I’ll be right back, and then we can both go to bed. I’ll protect you from the spiders if you protect me from the home invaders.”

As Merlin walked towards their bedroom door, he heard a small laugh from Arthur.  
“Oh, and Merlin?” Arthur called, and Merlin turned back, his hand resting on the door handle. “If you tell anyone about this I _**will**_ tell everyone about the whipped cream incident in Belfast.”

The tips of Merlin’s ears went pink and he couldn’t stop laughing the entire time, even as he had the spider in a cup.

No one ever did find out.

**Sometimes he won’t reply for hours, and maybe you won’t see him for a week. You’ll take this personally. Don’t. It’s how he manages, how he looks after himself. He’ll always come back, and he’ll hold you and tell you of the books he read while he was gone. And he will always tell you he missed you.**

The first time Arthur fell off the radar, they’d been together almost a year, second year of university coming to a close. They’d chosen not to live together for second year, the fear of adding too much pressure to a relationship making them pick flats with different friends. At the time it seemed like a good idea, and for the most part it worked, giving independence and space they’d needed.

Right now however, as Merlin paced back and forth in his kitchen, staring at his phone and chewing his lip in worry, he absolutely hated it. Arthur hadn’t answered his calls for five days and his texts since 2am the night before, and Merlin couldn’t figure out what it was he’d done wrong. He'd gone over three times and been ignored. He’d sat with Gwen and listed everything he had done in the last two weeks, trying to maybe find a reason for Arthur’s silence, but the two of them felt like it was drawing blood from a stone, a reason out of nothing. Gwen’s parting advice before she’d gone back to her flat with Lance, her disgustingly perfect boyfriend she’d moved to uni with, was to ring Morgana; Arthur’s sister. She’d know what to do.

But there was an issue with this.

Morgana terrified Merlin.

Like, truly turned his blood cold.

Morgana was in the year above them at uni, finishing up her degree in art history, and was fiercely protective of her little brother. While Arthur still didn’t trust Merlin enough to let him know the whole story, he knew Morgana had severed ties with their father a few years ago, and saw Arthur as her only family left. This meant all her energy, all her passion and pride, could easily be set alight if someone upset Arthur. For this reason, Merlin was absolutely certain his ringing would lead to his death but damn it. It had been almost a week, Arthur wouldn’t talk to him and Merlin had run out of options.

Shaking hard, almost too hard to touch the buttons on his phone, Merlin clicked the call button on Morgana’s name, and heard the combination of the ring tone and his shaky breath through the speakers.

“Hello?” Morgana’s voice came through almost immediately, and Merlin’s heart sunk. He’d hoped she’d be busy.  
“Morgana, hi!” he said, trying to make his voice cheery. After a moment of silence, he tried again. “It’s Merlin!”  
An irritated snort on Morgana’s end made his fake smile drop. “Yes I know that, I could tell from the caller ID.” Her exasperated tone was slightly too similar to Arthur’s for Merlin’s heart to withstand.  
“Why are you calling me at 1am on a Thursday night?” After another moment of silence, Merlin trying to figure out what to say, she sighed again, increasingly more annoyed. “Is it Arthur, has he drunk too much again?”  
“No! No, no, it’s nothing like that,” Merlin rushed, slightly tripping over his words. “Well, yes it is about Arthur, but he’s not drunk. That I know of.”  
Rubbing his head awkwardly, he was beginning to regret ever picking the phone up. “Look, Arthur’s not answering his phone. He won’t open the door, he stopped replying to my texts, my calls, and I can’t tell why when I don’t think I’ve done anything wrong and Gwen told me to ring you because you might know and so that’s what I was wondering.” He paused for breath. “If- if you know what’s wrong with Arthur.”

There was silence on both ends for a few moments, before Morgana sighed, again. Only Arthur sighed at Merlin this much, and even then Morgana was looking to beat that record.

“It’s not you Merlin,” she said, and Merlin held his breath. “He just, Arthur needs time occasionally. To, process life I guess?”  
“Process what? What’s happened?” The panic that momentarily subsided started building again.  
“Nothing’s happening now Merlin, he’s fine. He just needs to be by himself every once in a while, otherwise he gets overwhelmed.”

She paused for a moment, searching for the right thing to say.

“A lot has happened in the past Merlin, he’ll come back to you soon.”  
Merlin sunk into a seat, relieved, hurt and confused. He sat in silence for a moment, trying to process what Morgana was saying. What did Arthur need to be alone for? What couldn’t he tell Merlin? Why didn’t he trust Merlin? What had Merlin done to make him untrustworthy? Wh-  
“Hello?” Morgana said, and Merlin jerked back to the fact he was still on the phone. Sniffing, he realised he’d started crying some point during his train of thought.  
“I’m still here,” he croaked.  
“Merlin, he loves you. You’re all I damn well hear about every time I see him. You’ll both be okay, he just sometimes needs this time. I promise.” Morgana’s voice had become softer, and Merlin took reassurance from it, even if he didn’t necessarily believe it.  
“Okay,” he whispered, and Morgana smiled on her end of the phone.  
“Look, I still have one thousand words to write of my dissertation and the deadline’s in seven hours, are you going to be okay?” Merlin nodded, thinking he may not be able to speak before he realised Morgana couldn’t see him.  
“Yeah, yeah I’ll be fine,” he said.  
“Okay. Call me if you need anything Merlin,”  
“I will. Thank you.”

At five am, Merlin was still awake, sat in the same chair in the kitchen, nodding between sleep and anxiety, thinking about Arthur. He’d caught Morgana’s undertone of Leave Him Be, but every morsel of his body was telling him to go over and knock on Arthur’s door right this second, face him there and then.

Just as he nodded to sleep again, a soft knock at the door woke him up. He sat up for a moment, staring, thinking maybe he imagined it. He was almost delirious after all. And then it came again. Sighing, he walked over, wondering which of Gwaine’s girlfriends he’d invited back this time. He opened his mouth to say where his friend really was as he swung the door open, before the words died in his throat.

Arthur, in a huge baggy jumper and sweats stood at his door, a book in hand and huge round glasses sat on his sleepy eyes. Merlin’s heart swelled at the sight of the man he had missed so dearly, looking so disheveled and sheepish, hiding behind the glasses Merlin had always loved. Before he’d even had chance to react, Arthur’s arms were around him, burying his nose into Merlin’s neck, the coldness of the glasses on his shoulder. Merlin reacted instinctively, pulling him closer and curling up into every part of Arthur he could, breathing in the scent he’d missed.

“Morgana called,” he said as a way of explanation. “I’m sorry Merlin I never meant to hurt you,” he mumbled, and Merlin tensed. Arthur, feeling it, pulled back and looked Merlin in the eyes. “I love you Merlin, I was never going to leave. I just…” His hand traced Merlin’s jaw, curling around his neck uncertainly, like Merlin was about to walk away. The coolness of Arthur’s ring against Merlin’s skin felt right, and he found himself wrapped up in Arthur all over again.  
“The world was getting too loud again, I needed time by myself. I’m sorry I should’ve explained.”

Merlin frowned gently, tracing Arthur’s visible collar bone with his hand.  
“What do you mean the world was getting too loud again?”  
Concern laced his words and Arthur sighed, uncomfortable.  
“I know I don’t deserve to ask anything of you right now but can we just lie in bed for a little while? No questions?” he asked quietly.

Merlin had never seen him look so small, and felt his heart give way.  
“Go get in, I’ll be a minute,” he replied, and Arthur smiled, relieved. He shuffled his way to the bedroom and Merlin couldn’t drag his eyes away, watching his retreating form, before turning and shutting the front door before any more of the heat could leave the flat. He picked up his phone from the counter, sending a text and then walked to join Arthur in his room.

**To Morgana:** _Thank you._

-

The two of them watched the sunrise through the cracks in Merlin’s blinds, Merlin curled up to and clinging Arthur as though he were afraid of losing him ever again.  
“I finally read Pride and Prejudice last night,” Arthur whispered, running his fingers along Merlin’s shoulder, feeling him laugh.  
“About bloody time. A year with an English student and you’d never read any Austen. Disgusting,” Merlin replied, and Arthur’s grip tightened slightly as he laughed in response.

After another moment of silence, Arthur whispered again.

“I missed you.”

Merlin only kissed him in response.  
“Just, next time, tell me you need some space. Tell me so I don’t have to worry about you, prat.”

Arthur’s regret was etched into his expression as he kissed Merlin’s forehead.  
“I promise.”

In the morning, Arthur sat down with tea and told Merlin everything. The silence, the secrets, everything made sense, and as the two of them sat, tears dripping into their teas and kisses, they both silently thanked whatever it was that had made them find each other.

**He’ll get jealous. My god, he gets so jealous. Blue eyes easily become green, and he hates it about himself. He doesn’t mean to do it, he loves you and would never do anything to hurt you. Remember that. Reassure him you love him too, sometimes he forgets. That’s why he gets so scared.**

Neither of them seemed to care it was 3am on a Sunday morning.

The fight was loud and strong the whole way up the stairs, both of them drunk and snapping at each other as they slammed their flat door open. Neither Merlin nor Arthur were ones for passive aggression, choosing to air their grievances when necessary, and Morgana’s birthday had definitely given them some grievances.

“He was disgusting and creepy! His hands were all over you Merlin!” Arthur snapped, pulling his burgundy leather jacket off that Merlin had bought him last year. Merlin loved that jacket on Arthur more than anything else, and even in his haze of anger he still stopped to notice how carefully Arthur hung it on the back of the chair.  
“He was being nice. Sure, a little flirty; but that’s just how he is!” Arthur turned, an eyebrow raised.  
“Yeah, I’m sure he looks at everyone like he’s figuring out how to take their underwear off without their boyfriend noticing.” Merlin sucked in his breath through his teeth.  
“Well it's not like I was about to hop into fucking bed with him, you didn't need to go off on one; I wasn’t flirting back!” he spat, more than a little angry. Suddenly, it clicked, and the anger fazed into hurt.

“Is that what you thought? That I was flirting back?”

Arthur was silent, his back to Merlin. Laughing in disbelief, Merlin turned from Arthur, running his hand through his dark hair.  
“Fantastic. You really think that little of me?” His voice cracked but he was not going to cry, Merlin you pansy do not let yourself cry, oh my god. A tear fell down his nose and he wiped it away angrily before Arthur could notice. He couldn’t quite explain it, but the anger he’d felt moments ago at Arthur ruining a good night was nothing compared to the sudden aching pain at the realisation Arthur genuinely thought Merlin would do such a thing, in front of him, at his own sister’s party no less. A gentle hand touched his own, and Merlin jumped out of his skin. Arthur’s eyes widened at the redness and tears threatening to fall, and started swearing. “

Oh God Merlin, no, never. I trust you, of course I trust you!” He pulled the sleeve of his jumper to cover his hand and wipe Merlin’s face, who leaned in for a second before realising what he was doing and angrily pulled away, desperate to cling onto the anger he'd had a moment ago.  
“Then why were you so jealous if you trust me so much? You obviously think little enough of me to think Mordred was a threat!” Merlin snapped, wiping his own tears away as they fell. Arthur winced, and stepped forwards. Merlin stepped back and Arthur stopped in his tracks.  
“Merlin… I just… I get scared. Of you. And…” His words trailed off and Merlin looked at him.  
“Scared of me? What could I possibly do that scares you?” His tone was sarcastic, his words spat with harshness.

Arthur looked lost all of a sudden, a change in the atmosphere from the charged anger of moments ago, and Merlin almost wanted it back. He’d not seen Arthur look so uncertain since university.  
“Ever since, y’know, I just… I’m not good enough Merlin, especially for you. I just, I wouldn’t blame you is all. I’ll always trust you, I’ll always love you.”

Merlin started crying again. Arthur looked panicked, rushing forwards to hold Merlin, who hated himself at this moment for drinking too much and being so emotional because of it. This was most definitely not a conversation that would be occurring sober, Arthur’s uncertainty never showing itself unless masked by vodka.  
“Don’t cry, I didn’t mean to, fucking shit,” Arthur started wiping away the tears again before Merlin held Arthur’s hands still and looked at him again.  
“You stupid, stupid prat,” Merlin whispered, and Arthur looked at him confused.  
“I love you more than the moon and bloody stars, you are the best thing that ever happened to me.” He paused for a moment to steady his voice, putting his forehead to Arthur’s.

“I am here until we die, a team, us against the world. Neither of us too good for the other, an equal match. That’s why we’re here, okay?” It took him a moment to realise Arthur was crying too and he started laughing.  
“Look at us both, we’re drunken messes,” he laughed through his tears and Arthur offered a watery smile back. “Arthur Pendragon, I love you. You. For you. Don’t you ever forget that.”  
After a moment, Arthur looked up and kissed Merlin as gently as he could.  
“What did I do to deserve someone like you?” he whispered, lips still brushing against Merlin’s.  
“It’s that shapely bosom, I can’t stay away,” Merlin whispered back and Arthur smiled against him. “  
Trust an old English student to still use the phrase ‘shapely bosom’” he chuckled before being silent for a moment. “I’ll just have to keep going to the gym then.”  
Merlin laughed softly, the hot air hitting against Arthur’s lips just before Merlin kissed them again. “That you will.”

**There will be nights when he goes out and drinks too much. He’ll call you and ask for a lift because he’s never liked taxis. When you do, he’ll keep you up all night by tickling you and ruffling your hair because he thinks you’re angry. He’ll repeatedly apologise, saying “I love you and I’m sorry I’m annoying.” He’s not annoying. But make sure he drinks plenty of water and don’t let him pass out until he drinks it. Believe me, you don’t want to be the one to deal with him in the morning otherwise.**

“ _Mer_ lin, please!” Arthur’s irritated voice rang down the phone and Merlin sighed. He hated driving at night, Arthur knew this, and had even promised to get a cab back from his work’s Christmas do, and yet here Merlin was, reaching for the car keys as his boyfriend slurred pleas down the phone.  
“Just stay in the pub okay, the last thing I need is to be walking around Crouch End trying to find you all night.”  
_Again,_ he thought, but didn’t add.

Arthur had always been adverse to taxis, fearful of kidnapping or muggings, an anxiety his father had driven into him with no real evidence or backing when he was young. Even at 23, Arthur still hated them and usually spent the whole time on the phone to Merlin to make sure nothing could happen. While brave for others, Arthur had never been particularly good at being brave for himself. Merlin still blamed Uther. Arthur’s response was muffled, but Leon’s voice was clear.  
“I’ll make sure he stays here Merlin, don’t worry.” Merlin sighed in relief.  
“Thanks Leon, I’ll be ten minutes.”

“What’s wrong?” Arthur asked for the fifth time since they’d gotten home. The whole drive back he’d talked. And talked. Merlin really couldn’t get him to shut up, he hadn’t been this drunk since they’d met at Freshers’ Week. Fully aware of how much work he still had to do, he had a third draft of his criticism chapter in for two days’ time, he’d sat back at his desk, typing away, while Arthur still talked.  
“You know, I spend years trying to get you to shut up, and the minute you do I want you to talk. How stupid is that?” Arthur slurred, slightly irritated. Merlin bit the inside of his cheek and kept working. He felt Arthur drop to the floor beside him, making him jump out of his skin. Looking over, Arthur had wrapped his arms round his knees and was looking up at Merlin in a way that made his skin heated. Pulling his eyes away, he stared at the screen again, now much more aware of the body sat next to him.

After about a thousand words, he felt a hand slide up his thigh to his waist. Before he even had time to react, Arthur was tickling him, laughing loud and childlike, a way he hadn’t for a while. Merlin squirmed both in shock and amusement, and after several moments of pleading, Arthur stopped, both of them panting and laughing. Merlin turned back to the computer, seeing the time and saved his work, despite every stressed out cell in his body telling him to keep going.

“We should probably go to bed, you have to be up in three hours,” Merlin said, and Arthur sighed, looking slightly put out. “Come on.” Merlin walked to the bedroom, expecting Arthur to follow. After a second he realised he couldn’t hear any footsteps behind him, and turned to see Arthur stood still, slightly swaying.  
“You bloody prat, are you falling asleep standing up?” Merlin walked over to Arthur and grabbed his arm, leading him towards the room. “We have a bed for a reason you know.” Arthur pulled his arm away petulantly, and stalked off ahead.  
“I can walk by myself,” he slurred, before walking straight into the doorframe. Merlin caught his body as it bounced back and couldn’t help but laugh.  
“I’m glad we cleared that up then,” he said, wrapping his arm around Arthur again and walking him to the bed. Arthur protested weakly, but leant into Merlin all the same.

After an agonising twenty minutes of getting Arthur ready, including stopping him from walking out the front door to go to Morgana’s and ask her why she was upset whilst only wearing his boxers, the two were in bed. Merlin was lying on his side, facing away from Arthur, not at all tired but needing to sleep all the same. After a moment, a poke in his side made him jerk away.

“What the-.”

And suddenly Arthur was tickling him again. This went on for what felt like hours, Merlin squirming away from Arthur and yet still finding himself closer and closer to him, laughing and panting from exhaustion, before Arthur stopped and gave him a chance to breath.  
Merlin lay there for a moment, catching his breath, as thoughts of work started to fill his brain again. His stress levels had been high recently, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed as much as he had that evening. As he lay in thought, Arthur watched him, chewing his lip.  
“Are you okay?” he asked, and Merlin raised an eyebrow in response, not turning to look at him. “You’ve been picking up habits from Gaius, stop it,” Arthur grinned and Merlin couldn’t help but smile a little. “No, but seriously Merlin. Are you okay?”  
“I’m fine,” he said, turning slightly to Arthur.   
“Something’s been upsetting you for ages Merlin.” Merlin paused and still didn’t look at Arthur.   
“Maybe.” Arthur nodded thoughtfully, much more soberly than Merlin expected.

“Is it because I won’t get a cab?” he asked. Merlin snorted and looked at him properly.   
“That is slightly annoying,” he grinned, Arthur smiling back.  
“Maybe I could learn to like cabs.”   
Merlin stayed silent but Arthur could tell he was slowly becoming less tense. “I mean, anything has to be better than your driving.”   
Chuckling, Merlin turned back to him.   
“Is it me?” Arthur asked again. “I know I’m annoying.” Merlin couldn’t help but laugh at the sincerity of his tone and wished he had his phone to hand to record him so sober Arthur could watch in the morning.   
At the lack of response, Arthur grabbed hold of Merlin and put him in as much of a headlock as he could manage lying down and started ruffling his hair with his knuckles.   
“Ow!” Merlin cried, laughing.   
“Tell me what’s wrong!” Arthur said, his voice warped by his actions. Merlin laughed, pulling at Arthur’s arms.   
“Let me go you prat!” he replied, still pulling. Arthur let him go and Merlin pulled away, laughing incredulously as he looked at his boyfriend. At the sight of Merlin’s smile, Arthur smiled also.   
“That’s better,” he said fondly, and Merlin looked down, still taken aback all these years later by the love Arthur could display.   
“Thanks,” he said, only partially joking.   
“I love you, I’m sorry I’m so annoying.”   
“Shut up." Merlin's voice was back to its usual tease and Arthur smiled slightly.

After a moment, Merlin spoke again.

"I love you too you idiot,”

And with that, Arthur opened his arms and Merlin curled back into him. He slept properly for the first time in over two weeks.

-

The alarm the next morning was quite possibly the worst noise Arthur had ever heard. It felt like drilling into his skull and the groan he let out was fuelled only by raw pain. Merlin mumbled, shifting in Arthur’s arms.   
“Merlin,” he hissed, eyes cracked open, and Merlin looked up at him. “Am I dead?”   
“No, just stupid enough to get drunk on a work night,” Merlin whispered back, and Arthur groaned again.   
“Please don’t make me go in.” Merlin got out of bed, shivering in the cold room. “Merlin, please.”   
As though he couldn’t hear Arthur, Merlin walked over to his side of the bed, and stuck out his hand.   
“Come on, you have work.”   
“Pleeeease.” He sounded pitiful, and Merlin entertained the idea of leaving him there for a moment, before grabbing his feet and pulling. Arms flailing as Arthur fell off the bed with an unceremonious thump, he managed to catch Merlin in the stomach, winding him, and swore loudly at Merlin before whimpering at the sound of his own voice and put his head between his knees.   
“I hate you.”  
“I know, come on.”

The next time Arthur came home drunk, Merlin absolutely remembered a glass of water to beat the hangover. A winded stomach was not what he needed at 6am.

Ever.

**He is the most independent man I know, but he can be so insecure it still breaks my heart. He’ll tell you why one day, but for now, just remind him you love him, and the reasons why. One day he’ll feel secure, you just have to work your way there together.**

Arthur’s anxiety had never really been an issue during their relationship, the CBT he’d gotten in first year helped him deal with the large majority of it, but every so often it would rear its head.

Three weeks before their dissertation was due, Arthur had drawn back into himself, stressed and massively afraid of failure. _  
__My father won’t tolerate it_ , was all he said to Merlin about his final grade being less than a first before shutting the conversation down. Merlin had been giving him space, giving him freedom for almost two weeks, and his patience was wearing thin. Yes, he had his own dissertation question to write: _How far has Ginsberg’s use of symbolism and language set up the foundations for modern queer literature?,_ but he was so distracted by Arthur that every time he tried to do some reading, he found his brain finding its way back to him. They slept in the same bed, lived in the same house, but Arthur wasn’t really there, and eventually Merlin had enough.

He found Arthur in the back of the library, surrounded by books thicker than himself, written in Latin and Greek, head in hands staring at a blank page. The space around them was empty, Arthur preferring his window seat rather than the desks set up in the centre, and Merlin sat next to him. Arthur didn’t look up, but the way he moved over slightly let Merlin know that he knew he was there.   
“Hey,” he murmured softly, running his hand over Arthur’s back. “Hey, what’s up?” Arthur looked up, and Merlin was taken aback to find his eyes were red and bloodshot.   
“I can’t do it Merlin.” His confusion obviously showed because Arthur gestured to the stacks of books around him. Merlin caught the sight of a stain on his jumper sleeve and wondered how long Arthur had been sat here, considering he hadn’t been home for two days. “This. I can’t do this I can’t write this essay, I’m going to fail Merlin. I’ve tried, I’ve been trying and nothing is coming! I’m just going to fail!” His voice started to rise and Merlin quickly pulled him onto his shoulder.   
“It’s okay, hey, no, stay here.” Merlin pulled Arthur back down as he tried to sit up. “You’re going to listen to me okay? We’re going to take a break for an hour, we’re going to go for a coffee and not think about work. We’re going to sit by the lake and drink said coffee and complain about English weather, and when you can think straight, we are going to come back here and work together. No more trying to deal with this alone. You have me.”

Arthur sniffed and raised his head a little.   
“How long for?” he asked, his voice so quiet Merlin had to strain.   
“What?” he asked, sure he’d heard wrong. Arthur sat upright and stared at his sleeves.   
“How long for?”   
“Arthur, look at me.” Arthur stayed looking down, his glasses slipping of his nose, so Merlin lifted his chin, pushing his glasses back up. “I’m here until you don’t want me to be. And then, if you one day decide you don’t want me here, I’ll be making sure you don’t get a clotpole for your next boyfriend, okay? I’m here to look after you, and you’re letting those thoughts tell you stuff that doesn’t exist okay?” Arthur was looking at him, confused.   
“But why?” he asked, and Merlin laughed under his breath.   
“Because of you. Your nobleness that has on more than one occasion gotten us into problems at the union, your intelligence, your willingness to fight for what is right even if it is hard. You are a brilliant man and will be until you die, and even afterwards if there is such a thing. I love you Pendragon, so I’m here as long as I’m wanted.” Arthur kissed Merlin so hard his glasses were knocked askew and Merlin couldn’t help but smile into the kiss.   
“Thank you,” he muttered, and Merlin smiled, pulling away.   
“Half an hour break. Then we can work and get your first together.”

His anxiety subsided after that, using Merlin as a thought board any time he needed to talk through and identify his issues, the way his therapist told him to. Merlin told him every night before they went to sleep he wasn’t alone until one night after graduation, Arthur looked at him and smiled. “  
I know,” was all he said, and the two words lit Merlin’s heart alight. 

Arthur did get a first.

**The cat comes first. Always. Don’t ever think otherwise. Make his tea and notice the way he takes his coffee, he will notice.**

“Merlin are you on your way to the kitchen?” Arthur called the second he saw his boyfriend’s body rise from the seat at the desk. Merlin turned, eyebrow raised.   
“No, I need to pee. Why?”   
“I’m just starving for a cuppa if you’re heading that way.” Arthur grinned sheepishly and Merlin’s eyebrow was practically in his hairline.   
“And why can’t you do it Mr I Must Have Been Royalty In My Past Life Because I Can’t Do Anything Myself?” Arthur gestured to the grey lump on his stomach purring softly.   
“Tibbles is asleep I’ll have you know, otherwise I wouldn't be letting you anywhere near the kettle.” Merlin rolled his eyes.   
“I still can’t believe you let Morgana call my cat Tibbles.” All the same, he walked to the kitchen and flipped the switch for the kettle before heading to the bathroom.

Arthur and Merlin had come to Merlin’s home village of Ealdor, just north of the Lake District. At hearing her son finally had a boyfriend, Hunith had demanded a meeting immediately, and so the two had packed up and gotten a train north the minute their first year exams had ended, despite only being together two months. When they had arrived home and Hunith had smothered both Merlin and Arthur equally in motherly affection, she introduced them both to her newest stray adoption, a grey kitten who looked terrified of everything, and asked them for a name.

Fifteen minutes into a Skype conversation with Morgana and Arthur regretfully bringing up the name choosing, Tibbles had stuck.

The kettle started hissing just as the sound of the toilet flushing rattled the house, and Merlin appeared to pull the kettle off before it started beeping and woke up Tibbles. Putting a sugar into Arthur’s tea and making sure the tea bag brewed for twice as long as his own, he brought the two huge steaming mugs into the living room and set them down before throwing himself onto the couch next to Arthur.   
“Careful!” Arthur hit his arm, gesturing to the kitten. “You’ll wake her up!”   
“Never would’ve pegged you as a cat person Pendragon,” Merlin quipped, and Arthur just rolled his eyes.”  
“I’m a very complex and layered human being I’ll have you know,” he replied.   
“Like ogres?” You would’ve had to be blind to miss Arthur’s death stare, but Merlin ignored it all the same. “Because I hear they’re like onions. Y’know, always making you cry, bitter taste but overall a bland vegetable for all involved-.” He was cut off by Arthur clipping him round the back of the head and he couldn’t help but burst out laughing at his expression. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll stop,” he said between laughs, and Arthur settled back into his seat. “It’s all ogre now I promise.”  
The two of them started laughing again, and Arthur’s stomach movements woke up Tibbles who stretched with a rather unimpressed expression.   
“Oh _Mer_ lin now look what you did,” Arthur sighed, and Merlin couldn’t feel guilty in the slightest. As Tibbles walked away, tail held high, Arthur reached for his tea and took a sip. “Since when have you made good tea?” he asked, looking at Merlin, and it took Merlin a second to realise this was the first time he’d made Arthur tea since their second meeting, in which Arthur had to spit out what Merlin had made into their shared kitchen sink when Merlin wasn’t looking.   
“I guess I’ve just accidentally picked up techniques from the addict in front of me,” he replied, too embarrassed to say he’d watched Arthur enough over the year to know instinctively how he liked it. Arthur looked at him thoughtfully, smiling slightly, but didn’t say anything else to Merlin’s relief.

After that, Arthur definitely took advantage of his boyfriend’s new found skill.

**When he’s having an anxiety attack, give him space unless he asks for otherwise. Tell him he’s safe, let him know he has medication if he needs it. It’s not a sign of weakness, it’s a medical illness. He will feel weak and ashamed afterwards, don’t let him. Keep him grounded. Don’t let the thoughts in his head destroy him.**

There was something wrong the moment they stepped into Victoria station. They were running late for their train to Brighton, Lance and Gwen recently moving down and having a flat warming party. Merlin was rushing ahead to buy the tickets, Arthur slightly further behind, which in itself was weird. Arthur had a tendency to want control over a situation, he was always the one in the lead and deciding their next port of call.   
As Merlin tapped in two tickets to Brighton, he felt Arthur fall into place beside him at the machine, and a shaky arm wrapped around his waist tightly. Caught off guard, Merlin turned to look at Arthur to see his face deathly white, his body shaking slightly. Swearing, Merlin quickly paid for the tickets before pulling Arthur off to the side.   
“You okay?” he asked, and Arthur just shook his head.   
“You wanna go outside for fresh air?” Arthur shook his head again.   
“Wanna sit down?” Arthur nodded just as his legs gave way, and Merlin steadied him to the ground, giving a dirty look to the middle aged business man who looked at him weirdly. Merlin sat a little further away than he usually would, giving Arthur room to breathe, until Arthur leant out to touch Merlin’s arm. Getting the hint, Merlin moved closer, running his hand down Arthur’s back.  
“You’re okay, I promise. Nothing’s gonna hurt you here.” Arthur’s breathing was getting faster, Merlin could feel it under his hand, and tears pricked his eyes. He hated this more than anything, helplessness coursing through his veins.   
“Do you want your meds?” Arthur shook his head again, and Merlin gritted his teeth before forcing himself to calm down. Arthur didn’t need them both to be panicking.   
“Do you want me to keep talking?” he asked and Arthur nodded, so Merlin settled down next to him, still rubbing his back.

“Remember in uni when Morgana still scared me?” Merlin asked, not expecting a reply. “One time, I got so drunk I told her. Up at Billy’s pub, Gwaine convinced me the best way to your heart was to befriend your sister, and in my drunken haze I believed him. She was sat with Morgause, who really does still terrify me, and I went right up, looked at them both in the eyes and started crying. Like, seriously blubbering, and when Morgana asked what the hell was wrong with me, I just told her she scared me and ran away. Gwaine still finds it hilarious to this day. I made Morgana swear to never tell you the next morning because I was convinced I’d fucked up so badly I missed my shot with you. To be fair, it could’ve been worse. She’s lucky I didn’t wet myself.”

At that, Arthur laughed so softly anyone else would’ve missed it. His breathing had begun to slow down and Merlin thanked the lord it hadn’t been a full blown panic attack. After a second, he looked over at Arthur who had stopped shaking quite so badly.   
“You okay?” he asked and Arthur shook his head.   
“You okay enough to get to the platform?” Arthur nodded, and Merlin guided him upright again.   
“You sure?” Arthur looked at him in utter contempt and Merlin nodded. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

When they were settled in their seats, almost missing the train, Arthur refused to face Merlin. He spent twenty minutes staring out of the window before Merlin threaded his fingers through Arthur’s.   
“Talk to me.” Arthur looked at him, tiredness in his eyes, and Merlin didn’t look away. “We both know what happens if you don’t.”   
“I just… I hate it so much Merlin. That weakness, I can’t even control my own body.” Arthur paused, and Merlin squeezed his hand in reassurance. “I can hear his voice. Telling me how weak I am. His money’s not worth this therapy when his son isn’t even strong enough to breathe properly.” He looked away, back out the window. His grip on Merlin’s hand got tighter.

“I hate it so much.”

“You’re not weak. Hey, no, you’re not. His voice? It’s not here anymore, it’s not real. The only voice you can hear is me. Me, telling you I love you and that one day you will have a panic attack and it will be your last one. One day you will wake up and never have a panic attack again, okay? But until then, you’re managing this illness so well, you’re not letting it knock you down, get in your way. Look at you! Mr I’m So Successful and I’m Only 24. You’re here, now, not at home, not back then, okay?” Arthur nodded mutely. “I love you, anxiety or not. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

**Losing him causes a pain so deep, so fresh and raw that it’ll never fully heal. Your world will come crashing down around you and those pieces will never fit the way they used to, the way they did with him holding it together. And yet you will still love him, still want to protect and hold and save him. You will hate yourself for it.**

Arthur was pulling away again, Merlin could feel it. He’d become used to the times Arthur needed alone, the times he sat in coffee shops reading for hours instead of being at home, but this felt different. It felt, permanent. Arthur would bring Merlin a drink home, smile and make dinner, curl up in bed with him even after his alone time, but this time he just, wouldn’t. He went straight to bed and was asleep before Merlin went up and out of the house before Merlin went down. He didn’t talk, didn’t eat, worked too hard too much.   
Merlin started spending time at Gwaine’s after work, drinking his sorrows away or just sitting in comfortable silence as Gwaine explained idea after idea for his next book. A momentary escape before Merlin would come home to the iron walls Arthur had rebuilt for the first time in six years. He cried when no one listened, submerging himself in the bath. He couldn’t admit it was over, and so clung on to memories, small hints Arthur may still love him.

Merlin sat, curled over his laptop on the floor in the living room, the window seat they’d put in for Arthur sitting at head level. He was editing Gwaine’s second chapter, lost in the world of fantasy his friend had painted, and didn’t notice Arthur sitting down behind him.   
“Merlin.” His voice broke the silence, gentle but firm. Merlin tensed, but refused to look up, his body language giving away he’d heard Arthur.   
“Merlin, we need to talk.” Merlin turned partially, looking over his shoulder at him. The only way to describe Arthur was grey. His face was colourless, his eyes dead, everything small and quiet. It directly contrasted the image he was trying to show, in control, independent, making the right decisions. Merlin already knew from that moment how this would end, and he shut his eyes, hoping it would go away.

“Merlin. Please.”

His voice broke, and Merlin opened his eyes to see Arthur holding back tears.   
“Arthur? Arthur, what happened?” He rushed over to Arthur, his arm held out to touch him, but halted at the sight of Arthur flinching away. “Arthur?”   
“Merlin, please believe me when I say you’ve done nothing wrong, that none of this is your fault.”   
Arthur refused to make eye contact and Merlin stayed frozen in place, not wanting to admit the ice cold feeling in his gut.   
“None of what?” he asked, trying to think of something, anything, else that could be going on. Arthur looked up at him then, and the pain almost knocked Merlin over.   
“I… Merlin… please. Please don’t make me say it.” Fighting back tears, Merlin looked at him. “  
Say what?”  
“Oh fuck, Merlin you know what! This, us, it’s not working!”

Silence followed his words and Merlin fell back to the floor. An icy canyon opened between the two and Merlin had never felt so alone.   
“Why?”

Arthur didn’t have an answer for him. He just walked out.

He came back to his clothes folded neatly at the door in boxes and the sounds of sobs from the closed bedroom door twelve hours later.

-

Merlin stopped eating. He didn’t go to work. Calls off Gwaine and Gwen and Lance littered his phone, but the only person who mattered didn’t care. Didn’t try. He spent the whole day lying on his bedroom floor, staring at the photo he’d refused to pack for Arthur. Getting so lost in thought he hadn’t realised he was crying until he was choking on tears and gasping for breath. Spending every second of the day shaking, aimlessly wandering around the flat in an attempt to find purpose, something to do with his arms aside from the need to wrap them around Arthur.

Morgana came round after he started ignoring her calls too. She was always the most upfront of his friends, and the banging on the door at 6am was an indicator of that. He swung the door open, bleak and pale, a stone lighter after a week of only drinking Diet Coke, and she sighed, kissing his forehead. That day she tidied his flat for him, packing away all the photos and clothes. Merlin almost wishes Arthur had died.   
At least then he’d have closure.   
A reason.

Anything.

**He will love you with every crevice of his heart, every fibre of his soul. Please, please give him the same. He’s the only person in the world who deserves that much love. I’m begging you not to hurt him, nameless figure who will one day replace me. He’s been through too much. He is golden, the only star I needed, and his light is too easily put out. Give him your all and keep him burning, and he will do the same, stroking your hair and whispering his thoughts and dreams to you. You will never have to ask the universe for anything ever again.**

**Love him. Don’t let him go.**

**Merlin**

Morgana found the letter, and pocketed it when Merlin wasn’t looking. Eyes pricked with tears, she kissed his forehead again just before she left and told him if he dared ignore her again she would kill him. Merlin knew her well enough to believe her, and smiled weakly. She left, every step telling her to go back.   
The next day, Morgana rang Arthur. Fire laced her tone, fury powering every word, and she didn’t hold back, telling him exactly what she thought of him.

He didn’t have a reason for her when she asked, didn’t really have a reason for himself, and when she hung up, he lay back down on Lance and Gwen’s couch and cried. How could he explain? How could he begin to?

A will telling him he was an abomination. A father refusing to love him.

Morgana wouldn’t understand. She’d be angry, she’d tell him to shove the will where the sun doesn’t shine. The only person who’d understand is Merlin. But he was the problem.

Arthur thought he was past all this. Past being a 16 year old boy locked in his room tending wounds, listening to Morgana screaming about where his father could stick his discipline. Past being 18 and sat in CBT for the first time in three years, still scarred by the memories of his father sitting in his therapy sessions and scoffing at everything Arthur said.   
Past being blamed for his mother’s death.

And yet here he was. Homeless, hated, hurting. He’d lost his sister, he’d lost most of his friends but it didn’t amount to anything compared to his loss of Merlin. He hadn’t even told Merlin his father had died. He couldn’t. He couldn’t explain to Merlin what it was like to still love someone whose entire existence revolved around moulding you into a perfect weapon. A perfect lawyer. To be used against company enemies.   
He couldn’t explain the love when Merlin had seen disappointment in his father’s eyes when Arthur changed his degree to something he loved, the pain in his own heart when the front door was slammed into his face after the news of Merlin broke in the Pendragon house.

Less than 24 hours went by before Morgana rang again. After screening four calls in five minutes, Arthur picked up on the fifth.   
“Why didn’t you tell me?”

-

The meeting at the solicitor had been brief. Morgana wasn’t in the will at all, his father still angry at her for the last ten years. Arthur had been left a note and inheritance. The majority went into the company, whose new CEO Arthur hated. The note too had been brief, simply portraying his father’s contempt for his lifestyle and Merlin himself, including reasons upon reasons why he'd never gained his approval. And something, the scared teenager still inside him, convinced him breaking up with Merlin was the right thing to do. His final act to please his father. Maybe gain his approval from beyond the grave. Set Merlin free from the mess he was, the anxious crying wreck he’d become when he thought no one was looking. His heart had screamed no, the words lodging for weeks as he tried to say them, but his brain, his thoughts, kept saying it was the right thing to do. If he didn’t leave first, Merlin would and leave Arthur crying, empty and alone.   
He eventually explained this all to Morgana when she turned up at Lance and Gwen’s the day after her phone call about his father, lips as red as blood and tapping her heeled boots impatiently. He watched her as he spoke quietly, the way she flinched whenever he said Father rather than his name. The name still held too much power for him to utter. The scared little schoolboy still held onto the image of a father rather than the monster he knew Morgana saw. At the end of the monologue he’d prepared, Morgana sat in silence for a moment, shaking with rage.   
“That bastard,” she hissed, and Arthur looked up at her. Leaping up she kicked over the coffee table, sending Lance and Gwen’s books and magazines everywhere. “Even in death he can’t leave you alone! How dare he, how DARE he?!” Arthur shrank back, too fragile to cope with the raw emotion his sister was displaying. “What could he possibly get out of tormenting your only happiness after death?” When she turned back to him, she softened.   
“Arthur. Do you love Merlin?” He began to protest, but she cut him off with the repeated question. Stopping, he thought about his answer. Since his father’s death, he’d convinced himself he didn’t, finding issues with everything Merlin did, distancing himself so the pain could be less. And yet it had still felt like his heart had been ripped out with a knife. He thought of Merlin, alone and upset, for almost two weeks and the hatred and anger that almost tore him apart answered for him. He nodded, close to tears.

“You can’t let him keep telling you what to do. One day Arthur, you have to grow up. Take opportunities and chances for yourself. Live for yourself and damn the consequences.”

At Arthur’s silence, Morgana dug into her bag in one last desperate attempt.   
“Read this. Read this and tell me Merlin was ever going to leave.”

-

Merlin looked awful.

Arthur didn’t fare much better.

Merlin had thought it was Morgana.

Arthur had forgotten the colour of the hallway carpet.

Merlin hadn't forgotten the colour of Arthur’s eyes.

“Can I come in?” Merlin moved to the side. In any other situation he would’ve made a quip about how it was still Arthur’s.

Today he stayed quiet.

Arthur stood in the hall, uncertain. It was an odd feeling, this awkwardness around someone he’d been completely himself with since the beginning. Merlin closed the door, and then turned, leaning on it and watching Arthur warily. Stubble covered both of their chins, and Merlin had lost a noticeable amount of weight in the short time they’d been apart. They both looked like shit.   
“I have some explaining to do,” Arthur said, looking at Merlin, and Merlin laughed bitterly.   
“Be my guest.”

-

Merlin sat in silence throughout the entire thing. He shook, more than Arthur was, and at the mention of the will he had to get up and walk around the room to control his temper. Eventually, Arthur’s story came to an end, Merlin stood at the other end of the room, shivering in anger.   
“There’s this as well,” Arthur said, holding out a piece of paper. Merlin took it, reading the first words, his stomach dropping.   
“You were never-where did you get this?”   
“Morgana.”   
“That bitch.”   
“She was trying to help. She did help. At least, she helped me.” Arthur stood up then, walking over to Merlin. “I have been spending my life trying to please a man who would beat me for saying no. Losing everything I loved in order to make him love me. Even in death, his grip is still tight and…” Arthur’s voice trailed off as he tried to find the words through the tears building. “I was prepared to lose the only thing worth living for in order to make a dead man happy. A dead man happy who didn’t deserve happiness. I was scared Merlin, I’ve spent my life in fear, and you were the only one, the only person who quietened the voices, who helped me become me. I still love you Merlin, I never stopped.”   
“Then why did you go?” Merlin’s voice was coarse, only a whisper as he shook, hands grasping Arthur’s arms as though he thought he would just get up and leave again.

“The fear got too much for a second. And it was the wrong second. The wrong time. Everything was wrong, I thought you didn’t love me, I thought he was right and I’d fucked up my entire life, I let anxiety live my life for me. And then when I’d done it, I couldn’t go back. I thought you were better, thought you were happy. You didn’t call, Gwen and Lance never mentioned you, I just assumed you were better after all this time.”

“I could never be better without you. I could never be without you. Arthur, look at me. I know when I look my best and this? I’m telling you it ain’t it,” Arthur laughed, pained.   
“Merlin, you look like you’re dying.”   
“Maybe I am.”  
“Don’t joke. Don’t even try.” The two were still stood nose to nose, grasping at each other as though they didn’t think they were real.   
“If I do this, if I give you a second chance, you can’t do this. You can’t keep living for him. You can’t live for me. You have to live for yourself, do what makes you happy. He’s not here anymore. Neither me nor Uther run your life.” Arthur tensed at the name, flinching slightly. “You can’t be afraid. I’ll help you, I promise, but you have to let me in. Tell me what you’re thinking when you’re thinking otherwise we’ll never defeat this.” Nodding, Arthur rested his forehead against Merlin.   
“I promise. I’ll go back to therapy, I’ll tell you every stupid little detail like, like what’s in Leon’s fucking sandwiches today at lunch, just please Merlin. One more go. For us.” “For you Arthur. I’d do anything.”

When their lips touched, it felt like they’d spent millenniums apart and their want would never be satiated. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> this is inspired by a similar kind of letter written on tumblr and my mind came to the idea it would be perfect for these two idiots.


End file.
